


somehow everything is the same (except i don't fit anymore)

by makemelovely



Category: Girl Meets World
Genre: Angst, Character Study, F/F, High School, Implied Lucas Friar, Implied Lucas Friar/Maya Hart, Implied/Referenced Sexual Content, Love Confessions, Mythology References, One-Sided Maya Hart/Riley Matthews, POV Riley Matthews, POV Second Person, Pining, Unrequited Love, just a little bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-26 16:52:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15005198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makemelovely/pseuds/makemelovely
Summary: Maya is the sun. She’s the center of your universe. It dawns on you then, that that makes you the moon. Cold and alone and unable to be warm. It dawns on you then that she doesn't need you. Not like you need her. And damn if that doesn't hurt.//or the one where riley pines after her hopelessly unattainable best friend.





	somehow everything is the same (except i don't fit anymore)

**Author's Note:**

> the show is over and here I am writing angst for this non-canon couple lmao

You realize with an awful sort of dread that life as you know it has been reversed. You realize it because you see Maya sitting in the window, sunlight turning her hair golden and that’s when it hits you. Maya is the sun. She’s the center of your universe.

 

It dawns on you then, that that makes you the moon. Cold and alone and unable to be warm. It dawns on you then that she doesn't need you. Not like you need her. And damn if that doesn't hurt.

 

* * *

 

 

You fall in love with her the way you fall in love with everything. You meet her, and your heart beats a little faster. The next day she lets you have all her graham crackers because Tommy M. stole yours. And then _everything,_ all the time.

 

(Later you’ll find out from Katy that graham crackers are Maya’s favorite snack. You’ll smile shyly, secretly, and bask in the warm feeling of being loved.)

 

* * *

 

 

Maya falls in love with her Huckleberry, and you fall in love with your Peaches. You smile at her, and she smiles back. It feels okay for a moment, and then her eyes _shine_ at him in a way you’ve never seen before. You lost her before you even had her. How fair is that?

 

(You know it’s stupid to think like that. Maya isn't an object for you to _have._  She’s a person who makes her own decisions. But you just wish that you’d been her choice. You see, you’d choose her over anything in the world, every time. But you wonder if she’d choose you. Probably not.)

 

* * *

 

 

It’s like this: you’re on a cliff. You’re on the edge of a cliff, and you can smell the sea in the air, and the wind kisses your skin gently. You’re on the edge of a cliff, and you could fall at any moment. You’re wavering on the edge of a cliff, the ground crumbling beneath you, and you could fight this, you _could_ , but maybe you don't want to. Maybe you’ve always wondered what it’d feel like to leap from a cliff, fearless and knowing, and maybe you want to hear the wind whistle through your hair and maybe you’re a little in love with the idea of swallowing a bit of the sea and keeping it with you forever.

 

It’s like this: you know you’re halfway in love with her, and you could step back and escape the tragedy that is loving your best friend who is in a happy relationship or you could look at her and _be_ in love with her. You could love her so good. You do love her so good. You love her more than anything in the world, and maybe even more than the world itself. Well, no. _She’s_ the world to you, always. So maybe there isn't even a choice to make.

 

It’s like this: you’re wavering on the edge of a cliff and you let the wind push you off. You let your world tilt on its axis because you’re feeling a little reckless and you could love her so _good,_ and maybe this is the wrong choice but the wind whispers that it’s the _best_ thing to happen to you, and you want it to be true so you believe it.

 

It’s like this: you see the choice between loving her and not loving her but she is so beautiful that there was never a choice. It’s her. It’ll always be her. You love her, recklessly, dangerously. Tragically.

 

It’s like this: there are sharp rocks in the water, and you will fall. You just don't know it yet. And maybe loving her is the worst choice you could possibly make but you are too blinded by your love for her that you aren't even aware the rocks are there, but maybe if you were aware, you wouldn't care. Love makes fools of us all, and you know this, you do, and maybe loving her is dangerous, but maybe you’ll love her anyway. Maybe you already do love her. That seems like the likeliest option.

 

It’s like this: you love her even though it’s dangerous. Even though you know you’ll get hurt. You just can't _not_ love her so you do.

 

It’s like this: there was never a choice, no matter what lie you told yourself.

 

* * *

 

 

She takes mythology with you Junior Year, and a week in you begin talking about the story of Persephone. Maya was never big on mythology, so she’s never heard the story. All she knows is a girl with flowers in her hair and spring in her heart and a naive glint in her dark eyes that’s been twisted to be charming.

 

“That sounds like somebody I might know.” She nudges you, chuckling quietly.

 

You swallow something painful. You feel it fall down to the bottom of your heart and take root. “Yeah, Lucas is such a flower queen.” You smile, quick as a rabbit.

 

Maya snorts, and you watch her instead of the teacher and you think the destruction is beautiful as it cracks against her lovely face.

 

“I don't understand why she ate it.” Back of the Class Brenda chimes in. “The pomegranate, I mean. She’s a god, she doesn't need to eat.” She pointed out, securing her glasses when they began sliding down her nose.

 

“Maybe she wanted something for herself.” You hear yourself speak.

 

“Ms. Matthews, could you elaborate?” The teacher suggests.

 

You glance at Maya, and she mouths _Honey, you got this_. It hurts more than it helps because all the pieces cracking apart inside you are watering the pain blooming in your heart. “Well, Hades kidnapped her and she had to know there was always a consequence. Nothing is free in this world, and that hasn't changed. I mean, she probably grew up hearing horror stories about Hades who ruled the Underworld, and in some versions of the myth he warned her about the consequences of eating anything. She had a world in the palm of her hand, but she also had one waiting back at home with her mother. She had a choice to make, and she chose everything. She became a Queen, and she remained a daughter.” You finished, shifting uncomfortably in your seat.

 

Later, Maya will ask how you know so much about mythology. “I relate to it.” You shrug, shaking off the unintendedly heavy question.

 

Hopeless, tragic love. Yeah, it feels familiar.

 

* * *

 

 

The thing about Maya is that your life revolves around her. This isn't some twisted jealous thought, it’s just a fact. You aren't even mad about it, really. Your family adores Maya, they treat her like she’s been with them since birth.

 

(And sometimes if it hurts your feelings you don't say anything. So what? It’s not like your happiness is more important than Maya’s. It’s the other way around. Maya hasn't had a lot of happiness in her life, and if she has some, well, you aren't going to ruin that. You already feel guilty enough about having the picture perfect life.)

 

You love Maya more than anything in this universe. In _any_ universe. She’s the sun, and it makes sense. She _shines_ from the inside out, like she’s swallowed a nightlight or maybe something more poetic like a literal beam of sunlight. She’s warm, like there’s an endless fire burning in her soul that couldn't possibly be put out. The whole class gravitates around her like she can do no wrong, and you believe it because she acts like it. It’s not a bad thing. It’s more like she radiates confidence, a sureness that you could never be certain of. And you _admire_ her for it, love her for everything she is and all the potential buzzing inside of her like an untapped fountain of potential.

 

She’s the sun, the center of your solar system. So that makes you the moon. It makes you a leech, mooching her light away from her and giving it back in smiles and endless support. You love her so much you’re willing to slip away from yourself like you’ve been in costume all along. All this time you’ve been hiding _from_ yourself and _in_ yourself. Or, rather, the preconceived notion of you. You find that rarely people care about the black hole in your brain, sucking in everything in yourself and turning it cold and dark and useless. It’s like the opposite of a well. A well gives and the black hole takes without restraint. It consumes and consumes and it’ll never be satisfied.

 

So she’s the sun, you’re the moon, and she’ll never love you back.

 

So she’s the sun, you’re the moon, and you destroy everything you touch.

 

Whatever. It doesn't matter because you’ll never get the chance to ruin her. You see, it’s like rotating planets. For how big they are, and how close they can appear, they’ll never touch. They operate in the same solar system but they’re out of sync. That’s you and Maya. Planets that’ll never collide, no matter how much you wish you could.

 

Sometimes you think you might though. Sometimes Maya will look at you, glowing and sparkly eyed and you will think _She loves me. She looks radiant, and that look in her eye is for me. I love her so goddamn much and she loves me back, I feel it in my bones. This is a sure thing. I feel it._

 

The thing about you is that you feel a lot of things, and they aren't usually right. You made up that look in her eye because the sun hit her hair and she was smiling and she looked like a fucking angel and you couldn't help but want. The thing about you is that you always want and you never get what you want.

 

* * *

 

 

She tells you that she loves him. She loves her cowboy so much that she’s given him everything. You blink at her, slowly, carefully. She looks radiant, and the sky has collided with the sun. _This wasn't supposed to happen,_ you think. You say, “Congrats, Peaches. I guess that means you’ve lost your V-Card.” She nods, and your mouth opens again. “Shawn is going to freak.” You warn, as if she doesn't know.

 

A sly smile slides across her lips. “I guess you could say I’m certifiably boned.” You laugh together, loud and careless. Your heart hurts. Your _head_ hurts. The black hole swallows your stomach, a lung, and a few ribs. It grows larger, and your no-longer-there stomach shrinks into the size of a ladybug.

 

She goes into excruciating detail about how gentle and sweet he was and how he went down on her. You smile and nod and think about how fucking painful this is and how oblivious she is and how much you love her.

 

Your sun loves the sky because he helps her down from a high spot so she doesn't fall. He’s constant, and secure, and he’ll stay up the whole night so she’s ready for the morning. They are permanent, unchangeable. They can _touch,_ and you wonder if she’d ever be satisfied with the ghost of a smile you can offer her.

 

* * *

 

 

The sun marries the sky, and dawn looks lovely. A canvas of lovely colors spread across the world, something gorgeous and real.

 

You wonder what you could have ever given her. A blink and a wave as she goes to rest and you sneak warmth from her only to give it back?

 

* * *

 

 

You get into Yale. You decide to major in journalism and minor in acting. Now that you’ve loved and lost, it seems your cringy acting has hung up its hat. You’re the first to admit that you aren't the best actress, but you are pretty decent if you say so yourself.

 

Maya goes to Texas to be with Lucas. You say you’ll Skype once a week, and text everyday but that plan falls apart pretty quickly. Soon Skyping every week turns to every month until you tell her.

 

“I love you.” You say one day just as she’s about to click end call. It’s February, and you miss her so fucking much.

 

She laughs, bright and cheerful. “Love you too, Honey.”

 

“No.” You say, and you can see the startled look in her eyes, confusion bright and clear on her face. “I love you. Like, I’m _in_ love with you.” You clarify, voice strangely steady.

 

“Oh, Honey.” She says, voice filled with sympathy. Your throat closes in on itself, and it feels like a fist is clenched around your heart. It _hurts_ to hear her like this, so clearly pitying you.

 

“I know you don't love me back.” You say abruptly, hating how clearly and distinctly scratchy your voice sounds when you cry. “You love him, and that’s okay. I get it.” You begin to cry, tears slipping down your cheeks.

 

“Riley-” she starts to say, but you interrupt.

 

“I need time. Bye.” You click end call and switch your laptop off. Time. What a silly concept. You’re stuck in time, stuck loving her forever.

 

* * *

 

 

The thing is that you’d never give up Maya. You’ll always love her. If given the chance to switch universes and actually be with another Maya, you wouldn't. You love Maya, _this_ Maya. You don't want another one. Only this one. Just her.

 

You love her so much. So, _so_ much.

 


End file.
